


Eight Drabbles

by Severina



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Fandom Aid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-03-15
Updated: 2005-03-15
Packaged: 2017-10-10 15:09:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/101114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Severina/pseuds/Severina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eight "Fandom Aid" drabbles</p>
            </blockquote>





	Eight Drabbles

**Author's Note:**

> Prompts provided by LJ's popfly.

**1.  
Timeframe:** Post Season Four

__

Spend all your time waiting for that second chance  
The break that would make it okay.

Michael believes everything Brett tells them: about maintaining the emotional integrity of the script, about standing up to homophobic Hollywood, about the creation of a queer hero for all ages. He happily signs on the dotted line. Brett breaks every promise, of course. And the purified, practically hetero-fied movie tanks. Of course.

Justin moves on, because Rage was merely a distraction, a plaything. To Michael, Rage is real. He tries to believe in Ben's reassurances; in his heart he knows that he only had this one shot, just like Ben only had 'RU12'. Failure hurts, but sometimes hope hurts more.

**2\.   
Timeframe:** Post-Episode 220

__

There's a thousand words that I could say to make you come home  
Seems so long ago you walked away and left me alone.

The door slides shut behind me. Sealing me in. Shutting them out.

I toss the mask toward the counter. Didn't even know I was still carrying it. Shit. Stalk to the fridge. Beer. Yes. My fingers brush against a bottle of Bud. Fucking Ju... I push past it to get to the imported shit. None. Fuck. Fuck him.

Bourbon.

Pour. Toss it back. Savour the familiar burn.

Familiarity breeds contempt.

Except it doesn't. Fuck no, it doesn't.

I glance toward the phone. Pick it up. My fingers brush the keypad. I could call his cell. I could.

But I won't.

**3\.   
Timeframe:** Episode 122

__

Hour follows hour like water follows water  
Everything is governed by the rule of one thing leads to another.

There is a reason for everything.

Justin tries to remind himself of this as he gets into his tuxedo, adjusts his tie, slicks back his hair in a way that reminds him of Sunday school lectures and short pants. He finally gives in and lets Emmett style it for him. And he has to admit that he looks... pretty good. It's not exactly Babylon attire, but...

Brian will be at Babylon tonight. Picking up some hot horny guy and fucking him in the backroom and...

So Brian turned him down. He won't think about it.

There's a reason for everything.

 

**4\.   
Timeframe:** Late Season One

__

I'm told the eventual downfall is just the bill from the restaurant.

He has a membership to Babylon, but there are extra fees on theme nights. Drinks, every night. Fat-laden, carb-laden diner food before, and sometimes after. Brian pays.

It is only when he's taken out his wallet for the sixth time that night, and Justin is dancing impatiently at the diner door, _Come ON_, then darting across the slick floor to press his lithe body against Brian's chest, slide his tongue across Brian's neck, husky whisper in his ear, _I can't wait for you to fuck me_ \-- that Brian realizes he is more deeply invested in this non-relationship than he thought.

 

**5\.   
Timeframe:** Post-Episode 304

__

She waits and I pretend that I'm not coming back.

My fingertips burn from the touch of his flesh.

I take the stairs, trying to make as much noise as possible, slapping my sneakers on the treads so as to drown out the glide of the door. Sliding closed. Shutting me out.

Silence from above.

I stop at the second floor and close my eyes. Let myself breathe in the scent that lingers on my skin. Let myself dream of walking back up the steps.

But. I have to go home, to the place that is not my home. To my boyfriend, to the man who is not my boyfriend.

 

**6\.   
Timeframe:** Late Season Two

__

When the contact high from your real life adventures wear off  
You find, in the tiny moments that bomb  
Your old files rain down from the sky.

Justin is not sure how he got here, from the flush of excitement and satisfaction, of living with Brian, of just _being_ with Brian, to _here_, here in this dingy apartment, in this second-hand bed, with this man. This decent, caring, romantic man. This man that he does not love.

He shifts to his side, blinks as he watches Ethan sleep. He knows that he has to leave soon.

Justin thinks that Ethan uses his music as a weapon. Beautiful but deadly. He is flayed open.

He presses his palms to his eyes, and wonders when deceit became second nature.

 

**7\.   
Timeframe:** Episode 401

__

I was born to run, I was born to dream  
The craziest boy you've ever seen  
I've gotta do it my way, or no way at all.

Sometimes, with Brian, it's all about timing. I've learned how to find my openings.

Then I start thinking that there will never be the perfect time to say what I want to say. What I need to say. More than that, he needs to hear it. With the future uncertain, without a job, maybe without a home -- fuck, there's no way I'm letting him sell the loft -- he needs to hear it more than ever.

"It was love to me," I tell him.

His look and his touch tell me he feels the same. It's all I need.

 

**8\.   
Timeframe:** Episode 103

__

Pray for content, settle for free rent  
The tenements recall Rome.

The Babylon membership was a way to keep off the streets for awhile. To stay warm in those cold Pittsburgh winters. To release some energy. And there was the added bonus of meeting hot guys... or really, any guys. I couldn't afford to be picky. Maybe I could spend a night or two with someone, a week or two, a month if I was lucky, before he got bored of me. Before I had to return to the battered sleeping bag on the cold floor of a rundown flophouse in the middle of nowhere.

I never meant to hurt anyone.


End file.
